


Sparkles

by Seiya234



Series: Transcendence AU [18]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Transcendence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-05-18 11:37:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5927017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seiya234/pseuds/Seiya234
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whereupon the Goddess of Chaos and the Woodsman save the Lord of Dreams.</p><p>Or, Dipper’s in a spot of bother, it’s Mabel’s time to shine, Henry is there to give a ride back, and Stan is Stan.</p><p>A Transcendence AU AU, because apparently we don't have enough of those running around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Mabel was little, she and Dipper had learned in school about caterpillars and butterflies. Learned how a caterpillar would spin a cocoon around itself and turn into a beautiful butterfly that following spring. She remembered going home that day and wrapping herself up in every blanket in the house, so sure when she came out that she’d be different…somehow. She’d remembered thinking that she’d at least settle for longer hair.

Then a snow globe shattered onto the ground and suddenly she wasn’t pretending anymore.

Mabel floated in her pink chained cocoon, though it wasn’t a cocoon that she put herself into. She was asleep but she wasn’t. She saw nothing because her eyes were shut because her mind was _off_ and yet she knew the great growing gap that was tearing into her soul was the same shape as the Rift that was tearing into existence in the sky above her. She felt something leaving her, like when she donated blood last week but times a thousand. Felt that undefined _something_ going into an all too familiar demon dorito with a stupid top hat and a really stupid bow tie (she used to _like_ bow ties that _jerk!_ ) She wasn’t sure what was happening her but underneath her skin, in her soul, Mabel felt herself begin to get _mad._

But it also felt like she was growing into something bigger, felt like her self was stretching, and then stretching again into _something_ , what she had no idea. It felt like someone had unscrewed the top of her head and was trying to pour all of everything into it. Reality, the universe, other nerdy words that Dipper would use- it was all leaking into her mind and soul and it was itchy and also made the inside of her mouth taste like cotton candy. Her skin felt tight, far too tight, felt like there was too much for it to contain and that she would burst at any second. Something-no, some _one_ , blossomed into her mind like puppy kisses and gave a little “hello!” She giggled and said hello back, felt that someone nestle deep into her self like an old friend (like Dipper…but even closer.) There was something growing in her, and when she emerged from her cocoon all of time and space would quake under her power (she didn’t think like that; was that the someone that was in her now?)

For now she was fine waiting, being fed by the forces of Chaos. Fine letting Bill _think_ he had the upper hand. Fine being alone.

If there was one thing Mabel had learned this summer, it was a modicum of patience and-

—

Mabel Pines shot up in bed from a dead sleep.  Next to her, Henry snorted, turned over, and continued to snore (he said she was the one to snore, but really it was him.)

She ran her hands through her hair.

It had been _that_ dream again.

Half the time she had it… and nothing unusual happened, outside of maybe burping some multicolored bubbles throughout the day.

She had had that dream before she went to that conference in Australia and then Willow had almost died and Henry had _changed_. She had had that dream right after she found out she was pregnant, and had woke up to the feeling of something splitting and tearing inside of her, two becoming three. Despite the foreboding she was feeling at the moment, Mabel smiled at that memory; Acacia always had been stubborn like that.  The smile left her face and Mabel drew her knees up to her chest. Half the time she had that dream it was just that, a dream. The other times however…

Inside she felt her other self stir, the cross like tear in her soul flaring up sleepy waves of rainbow before settling down. Mabel let herself fall back onto the bed, like a big roly poly, curled next to Henry’s warmth. She hadn’t _done_ anything in a while, hadn’t let down her hair, let herself _go_ ; maybe she was just restless? They hadn’t turned the lake into root beer in a while, _oooo_ or they could make the trees walk, Henry would like that right? Mabel waited for a reaction from the peanut gallery, but the other half of her soul had nothing to say to that. Instead she only grumbled and tossed and turned in her sleep, leaving Mabel as unsettled as before.

Whatever was going to happen, it wasn’t going to be good. But there was no point in fretting about it now. Tomorrow would be whatever it was, and if there was one thing Mabel had learned from years of monster hunting and brother chasing, it was that everything was a lot easier if you got some sleep beforehand.

————-

He was helping Hank with a tricky composition on his violin, fingers on top of Hank’s, when he felt it.

Dipper sighed.

At least it wasn’t a child this time, though the alternative wasn’t much better really. He wasn’t sure what was worse; the hunger he felt at the offering, the fact that people couldn’t seem to _fuc̴k̴i͠n͢g̶ ͝get_ that this was the last thing he wanted (liar) or that this was what he had to look forward to for the next forever.

Hank gave a knowing look at his uncle; and since when had his nephew grown up? God Dipper was getting _old._

“Hey Bright One, I gotta jet for a few minutes. You’ll be okay practicing those high notes?”

Hank nodded, readjusting his fingers (still would probably need work when Dipper got back but Hank was trying and that was what was important.) “Yeah Uncle Dipper.”

“Great.” He reached out and tousled Hank’s hair, because Hank hated that, because it was a bit of normalcy before the spell broke, and then he blipped to answer the call.

The first clue that something was off was the flavors of ecstasy and rapture, of deep satisfaction, that the sacrifice left in his mouth.

The second clue was that the woman lying in his circle had a smile on her face and was dressed in the same robes as her summoner. The knife that had ended her life, that had called him to this circle sat in her hand, fingers still curled around the handle.

The third clue was that the men and women standing in a ring around him looked at him like….well, like he was _normal_. There was no trace of awe, no fear or expectation, no waves of greed. Just bland smiles and the barest hint of excitement in their auras. It was like opening the door to missionaries, if missionaries wore blood red velvet robes and crowns of ivy. They looked at Dipper with the same interest one would give something cute on TV or an interesting billboard on the highway, but nothing more. He was so discombobulated that he couldn’t even spit out his regular extortion.

“W͜͏hat ͜d̡̡͢o̕͡ y̨o̷̧u ͏̷w̸a͟͠n̷̕t?” Dipper managed to grate out.

Nothing, though he noticed they began to shuffle back from his summoning as one. Good. They _should_ be scared.

“Com̀e̸ now,” Dipper wheedled, stepping a little closer to the edge of his own circle (easily breakable, but he could give that another minute or two.) “Ǫn̴e͞ of̧ ̵yo͘u͠r͢ ow̧n͢ end͞e͝d h̶er̛ _l̴i͠f͠e_ t̶o̴ b́r̸ing̸ ̸m͘e ̴h͘er͠e͜.͝ ͟ S͢u͠re̢l͞y ̴t̴here͘'͠s ̕ _so͡methìn̵g̷_ ̕y̛o͘u wan͝t̡?”

Still nothing, and now despite himself Dipper was beginning to get a little freaked out. That same look was still on their faces in their auras. They were stepping backwards in time, which to be fair was typical cult behavior but combined with everything else, served only to creep him out even more.

His voice lost its reverb, he lost his edge, but he didn’t care because now all of his senses were screaming at him to get out. “Seriously, what the _hell_ do you all want from m-“

They had stopped moving.

They now stood at the edge of a second, larger circle that Dipper hadn’t noticed, hyperfocused as he was on his summoners. A second larger circle that had some terribly familiar runes and _oh fuck-_

An older woman, the only one whose robes were subtly more ornate, finally spoke up.

“Dear Alcor, good sir. Our Miranda gladly gave her life to bring you here.” The hood of her robe fell back, exposing fully to his eyes a face frozen in rapture. “And in bringing you here, she helped us open the door to our Lord and Savior.”

“Hail Axariah, Hail the Eater of Galaxies, the Slayer of the Unborn,” her fellow cultist chanted, swaying back and forth as the second circle _that he didn’t notice Dipper you’re the smart guy come on_ flared into life. Their dramatics should have been silly and dumb and overwrought, but Dipper felt the energy rising in the room and only knew fear.

It was time to leave but as he began to blip back to the Shack there was a terrible tear in reality, a hand that was a hand- wasn’t a hand had claws nails fingers tentacles something else- grabbed him, its grip implacable, and as he struggled and screamed, cursed and drew the life from the circle around him-

It drew Dipper Pines out of reality altogether.

————–

(Something’s wrong.)

Dipper didn’t come back that afternoon, and if Hank put his violin up with a sigh, it was only a small one, because he was sixteen, and he knew what his Uncle’s life entailed.

Dipper didn’t come back for dinner that night, which was a shame because Henry made green bean casserole and Acacia shot a peanut out of her nose and into Stan’s beer, an accomplishment she had been trying to do for a month now.

Dipper didn’t come back that evening when she and Henry played cards with Grunkle Stan for pennies and dimes, and it was still fun (and she still won) but it wasn’t quite the same without her brother playing with them, cracking jokes and calling out Stan when he cheated. He wasn’t back by the time they went to bed and it was odd for Henry to wake up in the middle of the night to have only one person instead of two drooling on him.

(Something’s wrong)

Mabel woke up to the taste of blood in the back of her throat and a sick feeling in her stomach and no Dipper. She thought about him as much as she could all day but it was Friday and game night. The Beavers hadn’t won a game at all this season, but Acacia as on the cheer squad, Willow worked the concessions for some extra cash, and Hank was dating the quarterback. It was time for the weekly struggle of trying to figure out how they were going to sneak Stan in despite his lifetime ban from the football stadium, and the sharp eyes of his mortal enemy, the vice principle.

“You know Grunkle Stan,” Mabel pointed out for the hundredth time as she applied makeup and fixed Stan’s wig. “If you just apologized to Mr. Galicki for selling those videos-“

 _“Never!_ ‘Mistakes to Learn From’ was one of my most profitable ventures ever! It’s not my fault this is the only team in Oregon that’s never won a game ever. Heh, that schlub should thank me for _helping_! And-“

Henry leaned in and deftly plucked the flower boutonniere that was in Stan’s lapel. Wires trailed out of Stan’s jacket as Henry pulled it away. Henry arched an eyebrow at Stan who, to his credit, didn’t try and protest.

(Something’s wrong)

It had been a quiet day without Dipper which Mabel had to admit was a little nice (no). She finished a batch of crocheted hot pink holster covers for Candy’s shop, and started on her next big commission, a wedding dress. She tackled a researcher she caught trying to take a grimoire home, met Henry for lunch at the diner, and went grocery shopping. She helped braid Acacia’s hair before the game, got a flame broiled hot dog from Willow at the stand, and tried not to squee at the sight of Hank mooning after the quarterback.

Mabel made breakfast (where was he?) and tried to teach Gompers how to play fetch (he usually gave _some_ kind of sign when he’d be gone this long) like she had been for the last year. She pulled books off shelves for patrons (he could take care of himself) and snuck free bumper stickers to her favorite researchers (this was _Dipper_ on the other hand) when Grunkle Stan wasn’t looking. She did rock paper scissors (how could she trust Dipper to take care of himself?) with Stan to see who got to drive to the store, attempted to fix a leak in the bathroom (the silverware cabinet was warded for pete’s sake), and spent an hour cleaning up the water from said fixing (Dipper where _are_ you?).

Everyone went to bed that night steadfastly denying that there was something wrong, that Uncle Dipper would be back any second now, and Mabel had a feeling that that lie tasted just as bad in the mouths of her family as it did hers.

(Something’s wrong Mabel Pines.)

———————-

The Rift was throbbing above her head throbbing in time with her heartbeat, but she wasn’t a little girl any more, she was a wife and a mother, a businesswoman and a hunter, sister, niece, snappy dresser-

She almost fell off of her swing, and as the stuffed animal tree she was swinging on squeaked worriedly, her heart sped up and the Rift above her began to grow-

Mabel looked up and sighed.

“Enough of that.”

The Rift continued to grow larger and larger, eating up her cotton candy pink sky, the yarn-owls, the clouds made of marshmallows and-

“ _I said enough._ ”

The tiny wisp of her power that she let out was enough to stitch the Rift up completely but-

Mabel looked at the world she created, now entirely ablaze, and signed. She shifted in her seat and continued to swing. It was a good thing this was all a dream, none of this was real and she wouldn’t get burnt.

But that was the kicker, wasn’t it? This could be the real world and she _still_ wouldn’t get burnt, _still_ could light the world on fire because of what was inside of her.

Tuck and kick, tuck and kick, and she was flying high again, sailing above the fire, the stars, the blades of licorice grass that hadn’t burned up yet.

She had everyone fooled. Most days she had herself fooled too. It was easy to pretend that she was the normal one of the two of them, pretend that she had escaped the Transcendence with nothing different about her, unlike poor Dipper. Pretend that all of what the bubble had given her (had awoken what was already there) had gone into saving Dipper, poured into him the second she saw his chest stop rising.

Lie and pretend that she didn’t unleash fifty foot Dream Boiz onto the Australian Outback after that one bad breakup. Lie and pretend that you didn’t turn Lake Erie into root beer for three days that time she was sick in eleventh grade. Lie and pretend that the driving force of the universe, the spark that gave life to every being and thing wasn’t running under the surface of her skin, crammed in like putting on a way too tight dress. Lie and pretend you meant it when you told your uncle and brother and husband that sneezing and turning the house into gingerbread or burping madness bubbles or any number of small things was the worse you could do.

She tuck and kicked harder, and went flying higher.

That wasn’t even scratching the surface.  

Dipper had asked her once if she could turn him…turn him normal again. She had shook her head sadly and said no, and Dipper nodded, and after some quiet time seemed okay with that. He thought she couldn’t, but really she _wouldn’t_.

Mabel could do anything she wanted. At least, she was pretty sure she could. Every time she nudged at that other part of her being, gently poking and prodding like she used to do with her loose baby teeth, every time she tried to figure out what her limit was she would get… nothing.

Nothing was a lot more scarier than it used to be.

She could bring the dead back to life, _really_ alive, and the world would plunge into chaos as souls that had started another life were torn away from their new lives and shoved into old shells. She could get rid of cancer forever and make unicorns nice and not big jerkfaces with the snap of her fingers, and reality would buckle and tear under the weight of that change. Mabel could rip the demon from Dipper’s bones, rip it screaming from his soul, send the last fragments of Bill on their way. She could do that and the Alcor shaped hole that that would leave behind would destroy the very fabric of the universe.

Every day she woke up knowing that she could end it all, if she wanted. Dipper thought he had it bad? Mabel paused in her swinging, letting her speed die down a bit, before starting to tuck and kick again. Okay, that was kind of mean of her. Dipper would be dealing with what she dealt with, just not now. More like a million or two years from now.

Around her the fire began to die down, and from the ashes arose new licorice grass and saltwater taffy bushes dotted with chocolate berries. Despite her worries and fears, Mabel couldn’t help but smile a bit at the sight. All things considered, she had done a pretty good job keeping herself locked up nice and tight, keeping a lid on the light that started the universe. Okay she slipped occasionally and she let herself do little things, but there was nothing wrong with that! It was like ladies night with the girls, but just for her, and with a higher possibility of insanity for everyone else around her.

The smile fell from her face, and she let the swing slow to a complete stop.

She didn’t know where Dipper was, didn’t know what had happened to him, and the worse thing was she had no idea what she would have to do to get him.

“Yes, you do.”

Mabel looked up to see herself standing in front of her.


	2. Chapter 2

Mabel looked at her copy for a second. Copy wasn’t quite right, not when the person in front of her constantly shifted shape. She was Mabel was a walking rainbow oil slick smear was an Indian woman with the absolutely bestest puffiest dress ever was a young man with two toned hair and a haunted look in his eyes was her again.

If she was Dipper or even her sweet sensible Henry she would probably be freaking out right now. There would be more angst than at the local Edgy on Purpose store, emotional issues strong enough to smell, and weird boy stuff.

She wasn’t them however, so instead she greeted her other self with a big squee and an even bigger hug.

Over the years she had called the person in front of her many names; her other self never minded and tried each name on like she was changing clothes. Mabel 2: The Bezzazziling. Mabinator. For a while they did Mini-Mabel until they realized that the other was slightly taller than Mabel, which led into an afternoon breakdown of who was really the mini-Mabel in this relationship. Mabetor, Mabelina, Lebam (a classic!) Personally, Mabel was a fan of Mlabel but her other self never could get the hang of the ‘ml’ sound. Eventually they settled on K.O; it was as good a name as any.

“Do you wanna swing?” Mabel asked K.O.

“Um, yeah?!”

Hand in hand and giggling, they ran to the stuffed animal tree, which now had two swings instead of one. They tried to swing and hold hands at the same time, and when they were too out of sync, broke apart laughing.

“The beans have gotten big,” K.O said after their laughter died down, all glasses and hair topped with a massive bow with a wad of bubble gum in her mouth.

Mabel smiled. “You say that every time.”

“It’s true though! One minute they were in our tummy and they weren’t people and now they’re out and they talk!”

Mabel laughed again. “That’s what kids do.”

K.O blew a raspberry at her. “I know that! But that’s like-” she threw her hands out wide, encompassing the world around them. “That’s like all things! But I grew these ourself and we felt them move and I fed them and they couldn’t use their mouth holes to talk to us-”

“And now they’re big,” Mabel finished for her.

“Yeah.” K.O swung a little higher for a second, before going on. “Our Fire seems to be doing better. Not so secret sad angry.”

“I’m glad we picked that flower,” Mabel agreed.

“And it was really cute to see Our Light with his boyfriend,” K.O went on, the pink cotton candy sky lighting up at her words.

“Less cute when Larry got taken out of the game with a broke arm.” Mabel paused. “Were-swans probably shouldn’t be playing football, now that I think about it.”

“OOOH OOOH _OOOH._ You know who’s cute?”

As one, the two women chorused, “Henry!” before breaking into a fit of giggles again.

“Can I come out and play with him again?” K. O asked. “He’s fun to hug and I like putting my mouth hole on his.”

“We gotta ask, remember?” Mabel said gently. Sometimes it was hard to remember who the older one here was.

“He’s got the prettiest antlers,” K.O said dreamily, toes tangled in the waving grass as she swung. “I’d like to eat the fruit off each tine.”

She didn’t mean apples. Mabel tried to ignore the pain of hunger rumbling in her tummy that echoed the one in K.O’s stomach at the thought. All she said was, “Maybe.”

They continued to swing and outside there was something wrong, outside there was someone missing, outside would need to be dealt with. But for now one became two became able to talk directly in a way that wasn’t always possible.

“So, there’s this one celled organism on Venus,” K.O said, chewing her hair.

“Mmm-hmm?”

“And xey are really cute and I think we’re ready to move to the next stage of our relationship, maybe become a two or three celled organism, start making more tiny organisms-”

“Oh totally,” Mabel easily agreed.

“And I already got Mars and Jupiter jump started so it’s Venus’ turn and I think Orggy-”

“Orggy?”

K.O shrugged. “Made up a name for your convenience; they won’t be at the naming stage for a while. But yeah, xey got that spark. Expect some intelligent life on Venus in a few million years, it’s going to be great.”

“Are they going to be purple?”

“I was thinking more yellow-” At Mabel’s downtrodden look K.O went on and said, “But I’ll see what I can do.”

They let their swings die down, until both of them had come to a complete stop.

“Wanna do a braid train?” K.O asked.

“There’s just two of us,” Mabel pointed out.

“Braid circle then?”

It was tempting, so tempting to while away the time with braids and cookies and puppies until she woke up but there was a reason they were having this dream-

“We need to find Dipper,” Mabel said. “I think he got himself in trouble. He needs me.”

K.O settled into a mirror of Mabel, eyes swirling galaxies and dying stars. “I was wondering when you would ask.” She paused. “I’m sorry I waited but-”

Mabel smiled and patted the hand of her other self. “It’s okay, I love you, I like getting to talk to you too.”

A smile flitted across K.O’s face before she turned serious again. “I would have gone looking already; there’s not much that can hurt Our Star-”

“Which is good because Dipper can be dumb sometimes-”

“Exactly. But I looked and looked and _looked_ -“ K.O sighed and Mabel remembered the taste of blood in the back of her throat. “I think I hurt our body at one point, I’m sorry. But I can’t find him, I can’t _find_ him something is _hiding_ him from _me_.” She paused, and when she spoke again, the world around them began to shake, the fires that had died out springing back to life, ten times larger than before. “There are a few beings that I cannot See. They should know better than this but evidently not.” She smiled and it was the smile of battlefields and blood, rotting bodies and rusted weapons and glorious death. “I think it’s time for a lesson to be taught.”

Mabel nodded. “Not Dipper.”

K.O nodded back. “Not what’s Ours.”

She held a hand out to Mabel. It was warm and soft compared to Mabel’s rougher and more calloused hand. As their hands touched their skin began to melt and run together, joining their hands, their arms, their torsos- Soon their bodies had melted together like two wax candles falling onto each other, and from the puddle of flesh on the ground they rose, One again. Mabel had tried to explain to Stan, to Dipper, to Henry but none of them really got it (well, Henry was finally starting to.) She was they and they were her. They were alone together apart and joined again. One became two became one became two over and over again, both a unified self and two-maybe not souls. More like a soul and the personification of a completely unfathomable concept.

They melted and melded into one, unified together again. They opened her eyes and Mabel felt power unfurl within her like an opening flower. Together nothing could hide from her and reality trembled slightly as they turned the force of their gaze upon it, looking and searching for a star, their brother. They stretched and strained their eyes, looking looking seeing more and more, looking looking _THERE-_

\-------

(If I’m not the smart guy who am I?)

Dipper didn’t know where he was. Well, he had a general idea, in some kind of pocket dimension he thought. But _what_ and exactly _where_ and _when_ , not so much. He was being bound by something but when he opened his eyes ( _all_ of them) they couldn’t make out any ropes or symbols or sigils or circles or _anything_. There was something keeping him prone on the ground, but it was as if it was completely unknowable, unfathomable to him, and when he tried to See, his mind rebelled and he was left only with a sick feeling in his stomach (and since when did he starting hurting like, like…like a mortal again?)

He couldn’t change out of his clothes and get rid of the terrible sticky feeling of blood soaked rags sticking to his skin. Hell, he couldn’t even change out of this stupid fucking shell-because that’s all that this semblance of a meat sack was, a figment of his will and power.

A figment of his will and power that he was trapped in currently.

(If I’m not the smart guy, then who am I?)

Dipper couldn’t move his head, couldn’t even move his eyes from their locked gaze onto the roof of this place, but in the circumstances, he wasn’t complaining.

Not after he had gotten his one and only look at Axariah.

Inwardly, Dipper snorted. Those fools back on Earth thought that Axariah was _just_ a demon? Their idiocy would have been stupid if it weren’t for the fact that it had gotten him trapped here. As far as Dipper could tell-and it was _hard_ because Axariah’s thoughts were completely alien to even him, so alien and incomprehensible that Dipper’s mind rebelled at the very touch of Axariah’s intelligence on his own. Dipper couldn’t even get words or speech, only thoughts and concepts, their minds completely incompatible. Still, he had time, and Dipper had managed to piece some things together.

Namely that Axariah wasn’t just a demon, but a God. He was a being that had been born three or four universes back, had somehow survived the birth and death of each one of those universes by locking himself away in this dimension. He reminded Dipper of a barnacle clinging to the underside of a ship, a leech clinging tentatively on the skin of the universe. But even as powerful as Axariah was, he was still only a shell of his former glory, a parasite, a bottom feeder. The pocket outside of time that cradled and preserved him was also his prison. His power was enough to ensure his presence was still noted, enough to do small things.

But now he had Dipper. Now he had a source of limitless power. All he had to do was eat Dipper and then Axariah would be reborn, would be free to rain destruction upon the universe and turn it into his toy.

But that left one question.

 _Why_ was Axariah waiting to eat Dipper?

(If you aren’t the smart guy, who are you?)

\---

Mabel opened her eyes, the inky blackness of space shining from them.

“Found him,” they breathed.


	3. Chapter 3

Henry opened his eyes.

Mabel’s face filled his vision. The tip of her nose brushed against his, breath hot on his face, and her eyes were the slow swirl and movement of galaxies in space.

“We need to save Dipper from a bad sci-fi hell dimension,” Mabel said in one breath.

Henry looked at her blearily for a second, then closed his eyes again.

Rough hot hands grabbed his shoulders and shook him none too gently, the shaker unaware of their own strength.

“ _Henry!_ Henry we need to get Dippindots because he’s a big dumdum and he’s going to get eaten by this thing _we_ can’t See but _I_ can see and he’s freaking out and probably working himself into a big angst fit and-”

Henry cracked his eyes open and looked to his left. The alarm clock was close enough that he could see the numbers without his glasses: 4:45.

He looked up at the blurry figure of his wife sitting on his chest. She had obviously decided to wake him up while she was only halfway done gearing up. She had her camo pants on, but no boots. This close he could see the thick ropy scars that crossed Mabel’s stomach, the divot on the left side of her chest, the stretch marks that ran like rivulets up and down her torso, her dayglo pink sports bra. On her head was a tattered blue and white hat with a pine tree emblem, though the white was buried under layers of stain and dirt. Her hair, Henry knew from experience, was done in a braid and pulled through the back of the hat.

He would have been in awe of Mabel’s fierce, terrible beauty if it weren’t for the fact that his eyes were still almost glued shut with sleep boogers.

She began to bounce on him, poking his stomach, his chest, his face.

“Henry, _Henryyyy._ Hey. _Heyyyyyy.”_

He had futilely closed his eyes again but he just knew that she was frowning at him.

“Henry!”

Another poke.

“If Dipper gets eaten that’s bad! Like _bad_ bad! Like end of everything we know bad or ‘Baby Fights’ getting cancelled bad.”

A finger started to go towards his face but he intercepted it, gently closing her small hand in his larger one.

“Henry! Oh good you’re awake! Let’s get you up and ready I didn’t use all the hot water I promise and-”

“Mabel,” Henry croaked out. “Can Dipper wait until I get a few more hours of sleep and breakfast with the kids?”

“Welllll-”

“Is he in immediate, pressing danger?”

“Not exactly, we think that Dipper isn’t going to get eaten until tomorrow our time because there’s some planets that are going to line up in that dimension and-“

Worried as he was about Dipper, he wasn’t going to do his brother any good starving or sleep deprived. He fell quickly back into unconsciousness.

——

Stan flipped the last of the Stancakes out of the ancient cast iron pan and on to the plate. He brought them over to the table and unceremoniously dropped the heavy plate onto the table.

Hank warily looked at the pile of Stancakes. “Grunkle Stan, you made sure to wear a shirt while making these this time right?”

Stan, who had only put on a shirt when he saw the triplets come into the kitchen said, “Would I ever cook without a shirt? Now are you going to eat them or what?”

The seven of them (no, six, there was only six, their seventh was missing) began to eat. Henry had made bacon and sausage, eggs and fruit salad, biscuits and gravy, fresh squeezed orange juice…he had even gotten out the fresh maple syrup one of his cousins in Canada had sent to him from her logging camp.

They hadn’t had a breakfast spread like this in years.

They ate silently at first, the air thick with tension, until Stan burped and leaned back in his chair.

“Okay, spill. Where’s Dipper at?” He pointed a finger at Mabel. “You’re making me antsy with all those sad looks you’re giving us. What gives?”

“We found him. But we’re going to have to go get him.”

Acacia perked up. “We?!”

Mabel pointed a fork that had a piece of sausage on it at her oldest. “Acacia Ruth, you know good and darn tooting well I’m not taking you along.”

Acacia slumped in her chair and began to totally not pout.

“Who’s going to go with you then?” Willow asked, staring straight into her mother’s eyes. Mabel saw her youngest daughter’s gaze become unfocused, staring at something Mabel couldn’t see. “You are going to need someone to go with you Mom.”

Acacia opened her mouth. Henry looked at her. Acacia closed her mouth.

Mabel reached over Stan and tousled her youngest’s hair, curly hair becoming frizzier under Mabel’s touch, pulling out of their braids.

“I’m taking your dad because he can kick butt and chew bubblegum at the same time Willow-bean!”

Dad, Hank was bemused to notice, blushed as red as a tomato at that.

Mabel chugged her glass of orange juice in one gulp, then burped hard enough to rattle the windows (literally).

“Now who wants to put battle paint on me and your Dad?!”

And if the smile didn’t reach her eyes, or the kids’ eyes, no one said anything about it.

———

“Are they watching?”

Henry shook his head. “No, Stan’s got them upstairs painting the bathroom, like he promised.”

She didn’t ask how he could tell, standing in the front yard like they were, because she already knew.

“Good,” she said, and then she wrapped her arms around him in a big bear hug. He returned the favor, and in his grasp she shook like a willow.

“I’m scared,” Mabel murmured into his shirt, her skin hot to the touch.

“Hey, hey it will be okay. You got me, remember? And I have the Woodsman. We can handle this.” Actually, Henry was only kind of sure that they could handle this but there was no need to add to Mabel’s worries.

“I know we can. That’s not what I’m scared of,” she replied, her voice muffled by flannel.

“What is it then Mabes?”

She lifted her head up and it was only then he realized she was beyond fever hot, realized she was shaking not from fear but exertion, from the effort of holding on to control.

Her eyes were shifting brown blue green hazel white black, and streaks of rainbow color were popping up and fading away like shooting stars in her hair.

“I’m scared of me.”

He didn’t tell her there was nothing to be scared of. They had promised long ago to do their best not to lie to one another.

Instead he asked “How can I help?”

She pulled back a bit so she could wipe the tears and snot off her face. “I…I need you to-”

Mabel looked down and blushed. “I need you to stay _you._ I’m sorry I don’t want to hurt-”

“You haven’t. You aren’t.”

“I need to see your face, need to hear your voice.” A faint, shaky smile came onto her face. “Need to be able to play with your hair if I want. I need you Henry. You…you’re my anchor and my rock.”

A matching, equally weak smile bloomed on his face. “I can do that.” He looked over to where his axe stood leaning against Mabel’s bat. “There’s only going to be so much I can do over there,” he gently warned her.

Mabel brightened up. “Oh, don’t worry, we thought about that! You trust us?”

Henry looked his wife in the eyes. “I trust you.”

“Okay cool beans!”

Then she reached into his chest, hand diving into skin and bone and muscle like it was butter, and grabbed his soul. Mabel pulled it out, and gave it a quick kiss before she knelt down and placed it into the earth at their feet, where it melted into the soil. It was as quick and casual as when Mabel lifted Dipper off the kitchen table or out of the way of the TV.

Mabel beamed at him. “Problem solved!”

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out because he didn’t know what to say (didn’t know how to talk didn’t know what the concept was.)

“Okay, so I know this is a liiiiiitle weird but there’s a perfectly logical explanation.” She paused and giggled. “Heh. Stealing Dipper’s old lines are always fun.”

He could barely hear her over the roar of his heartbeat, the roar of Something in his ears, like it wasn’t just him in his body any more. Also he could barely hear due to the nagging sense that his ears were around his hips.

Mabel clapped her hands together. “Okay so don’t worry, I’ve just anchored your soul in the Earth, which is totally okay I promise. She loves you, I promise. You two are kind of one and the same-”

It wasn’t like the time Dipper had done this to him. The pain and fear and sheer heart stopping terror was absent. It had been so normal and nonchalant; that was what was really throwing him more than anything else. Something so big and monumental and impossible and Mabel had done it as reflexively as breathing or sneezing.

“-and like I said she loves you and loves the person growing inside of you; wait growing, that’s not the best way to say that, pretend I didn’t say anything. But anyway if you need any-”

It felt like his feet had fallen asleep, but that feeling had spread all over his body. There was a part of him that was missing but no it wasn’t missing it was still with him. It was just that his him had suddenly grown a lot bigger.

“-and it will all be okay I promise.”

She looked worriedly up at him. “Are…are you okay Henry?”

He stared at her for a second. It felt like his foot had fallen asleep but that feeling was all over his body, from head to toe. It felt like he was… like something he didn’t know could be stretched was not only being so, but stretched past its limits. He felt… thin. He managed to croak out an “Eh.”

Mabel beamed. “I’ll take it! You ready?”

Henry reached down and grabbed the handle of his axe. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

She looked at him for a second and the surety faded from her eyes. He reached out with his free hand and grabbed one of hers.

“I’m still scared,” Mabel admitted. Henry smiled.

“Hey. We’re together. We got each other and we got this.”

“Promise?”

Henry nodded. “Promise.”

They stood in silence for a second, finding solace in the other’s company, then Henry broke the quiet.

“So how exactly are we getting to this other dimension Dipper is in?”

“Don’t worry Snugglemoose! Mabel is on the case!”

She picked up her bat and jabbed it into the air. Then she began to drag it down, and Henry felt his stomach flip flop, felt a million new senses scream in terror that something was wrong wrong _wrong._ The bat parted the air and tore a hole in reality, a small rift, not unlike the one that appeared cross like in the sky all those years ago.

“Uh, do you mind ducking? I could make it as tall as you but then the oceans would turn into that weird purple ketchup from when we were little and that would be bad.”

Henry choked back the bubble of hysteria that threatened to burst out of his throat. This was his life, his wife. He summoned a smile to show her, and then ducked out of this dimension and into hell. Mabel was close behind him.

The rift closed, leaving only a patch of yellow and purple grass as evidence on the lawn of the Shack.

——–

He hadn’t felt this helpless, this useless, this _stupid_ since the day the sky broke apart and a disintegrating triangle looked at him and cocked his hands (eenie meenie miney _you_ kid).

How had it never occurred to him that some would see _him_ as a suitable sacrifice! Dipper was the one to be sacrificed _to_ darnit, not the other way around. Well. Not that he _wanted_ to be sacrificed to but if it had to happen…

Dipper felt sick, fury boiling inside of him with no available outlet. A hundred years from now and Dipper would have been able to shrug these bonds off like shaking his suit jacket off. Five hundred years from now and Dipper still wouldn’t be able to kill this beast, but at least he’d be able to lock him away until the end of this universe. Internally Dipper scowled. Lock him away tight enough that no crazy ass cult in knock off Santa Claus robes could summon the Thing that Should Not Be.

And that was the problem right there wasn’t it? Because Dipper Pines was dead, Dipper Pines had died when he was twelve and his flesh burned and cooked and his soul had ripped and torn and _changed_. Dipper Pines was dead but Alcor was alive. Alcor was alive (and Dipper along with him), and like all young living things was still growing and changing. And it was that growth and change that Axariah desired. The ability to break from unfathomable eons of stasis and barely eking out an existence, the abilty to transcend limits, become limitless.

He longed to move, if only to thump his head on the ground. Stupid stupid _stupid_. He hadn’t been so dumb so weak so powerless in so long that he had gotten cocky. Wendy had called it all those years ago, the time she came to visit Mabel, who had broken a leg while they were taking down a necromancy ring. Broken a leg because he forgot to look for mundane as well as magical traps. He remembered her scowl like it was yesterday, the way she shook her head as she said, “Dude, you’ve gotta be more careful. You aren’t perfect, you know?”

(Remembered the little voice inside of him that whispered that he _could_ be would be, the voice that whispered that Wendy had no idea what she was talking about.)

But why should he pay attention? Why should he waste his time making useless observations that were only going to clutter his already cluttered (and getting moreso every day thank you very much) mind? He was Alcor the Dreambender! Lord of Chaos, the Earthrender, King of the Nightmare Realm, and a million other titles that in the privacy of his mind he could admit were completely ridiculous. But they were true too! And until now he had always been able to break out of any trap, any snare, any spell or circle or mortal that dared lay a hand (or other appendage) on his person.

“Yes,” a voice whispered from inside his brain that sounded suspiciously like Stan. “The person that’s glued to the ground and can’t move. Way to go genius.”

Dipper reached to gather power, fury turning the world around him redder than it was already, and once again got the zap that happened every time he had tried it before.

Some smart guy he had turned out to be. Now he was going to be devoured body and soul (which was wrong the only one who got to do that was _him._ ) But worse than that, he was going to leave Mabel and Henry on their own, he was going to leave his stars helpless and defenseless. Axariah was going to devour him, and then this, this _thing_ was going to use _his_ power to destroy everyone and everything that Dipper ever loved (was going to destroy what was _his-_ )

“And what upsets you more?” Mabel’s voice, the same tone she took with him in a dream once upon a time. “That someone is going to hurt your family? Or that someone is going to take your power away?”

Dipper sighed. He took the Mabel voice and placed it firmly but gently away in the crevasses of his mind because he didn’t need that right now. Just like he didn’t need that other voice, a voice that was so small there were no words. The little light of hope that his sister, his brother, his grunkle, _someone_ was going to come in and save him. They were going to save him and make it better and-

He cut off that train of thought as well. If he with all of his power and capabilities couldn’t save himself, what made him think that Mabel and Henry would be able to? They loved him and they would try, but that wasn’t how the world worked. Just loving someone didn’t make everything magically better. The tiny flare remembered that there was someone else within his sister but Dipper squashed it again. There was no way Mabel would be able to make it out here, even with that…other person inside of her. No, there was no use hoping for rescue like a small child (like a sweaty preteen boy who never took a shower.)

He was on his own.

Dipper laid stewing in his own misery for another minute, before sighing.

He was fucked, but there had to be something he could do, some scrap of knowledge that would help him.

Mainly, why on earth wasn’t he stewing in digestive juices right now?

With no better option presenting itself, Dipper opened every shield, every floodgate that usually kept the knowledge of the universe constantly pouring into his mind, and lost himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Henry fell out of the tear between realities face first into the dirt.

Then he managed to get himself on his arms and legs long enough to puke up breakfast.

A warm hand caressed his back. “I’m sorry Henbone, I didn’t think you’d take interdimensional travel this badly.”

Henry would have reminded his dear wife that she had seen him get both seasick _and_ carsick before and this really wasn’t much different, but he was too busy puking what felt like his toenails out.

“Do you want some gum? I got some gum in my go-bag-“

Henry shakily got up, wiping his mouth off. “Do you have cinna-“

The question died in his mouth. He thought that maybe Mabel had been exaggerating a slight bit, as was her wont (he wasn’t complaining, he loved that about her.) But when she said “sci-fi hell dimension-“

She wasn’t kidding.

The only comparison Henry could come up with after all was said and done was that it was like being in a terrarium, a collection of oddments and bits collected by a terrible alien intelligence. The sky was deep red and orange, what he could see of it through the black swirling clouds and maybe that sounded cliché but here and now, it filled him with dread.

From the top of the hill they landed on Henry could see bodies of water- _no._ No that wasn’t right. Water wasn’t that thick. Or that deep red. There were plants all around them, or at least the closest thing this place had to plants: trees made of slick throbbing meat, literal blades of grass, bushes that spewed pollen clouds of ash and dust.

As for the denizens of this place… Henry was hesitant to say monsters because if there was one lesson the Transcendence had taught everyone it was that ‘monster’ was a highly loaded and overused term (most true monsters hid themselves under friendly smiles and human skin.)

But Henry couldn’t think of another word for the beings he saw arrayed in front of them, flying and cackling, screaming and galloping. Beings who preyed upon the weaker of their lot, feeding as much off of the pain and fear, as they did blood and flesh.

He felt Mabel’s hand slip into his, felt her shaking. “They’re Axariah’s goonies.” He squeezed her hand and she went on. “They’re the worst of the worst from across the universe; if Axiariah feeds on leftovers then they feed on the leftovers of the leftovers.”

“And each other,” Henry pointed out, wincing at a particularly spectacular display in the sky.

Something moved in the corner of Henry’s eye, something that seemed to move through a million shapes and colors, and when he turned to see what it was, it felt like his mind was breaking like his soul was going to burn and-

“Sorry about that Henry, I should have warned you.”

His nose was bleeding and he had a roaring headache. The last few minutes were a complete blank.

“What-?”

Mabel reached up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. As she did, his headache went away and he felt something in his brain jump tracks, neurons misfiring and scrambling before returning into a new, slightly different form.

“Um, Mabel?”

“I forgot to tell you, there’s equations here!” This place was too horrible for a smile, but Mabel’s voice did lighten up a bit. “They’re physical representations of fourth-dimensional math. They’re harmless.” Mabel paused. “Well, they cause aneurysms in most mortal brains but I’ve taken care of that!”

“Thanks,” Henry said weakly.

They stood holding hands for another minute and then Mabel said, “This is _wrong._ ”

It was only then that Henry realized that Mabel was shaking not from fear or disgust but anger.

She looked at him and it wasn’t only Mabel looking at him now.

“Nothing lives here Henry, not really. Nothing is born here and to die here is to spend an eon doing so. This…this is a _perversion_ of who I am, of who _we_ are.”

Her eyes were galaxies were the birth of the universe was the sun going nova boring into him and he was frozen in their glare.

“This ends _now._ ”

His wife breathed in, breathed out. And the world around them _changed._

The sky went from dark blood red and bruise orange to bright day-glo pink, the same pink of the cotton candy that Mabel and the kids got sometimes when they were out.  The trees went from writhing flesh back to normal…. Though since this was Mabel they were talking about, ‘normal’ meant a smiling tree trunk with singing stuffed animals that looked like the ones they had gotten the kids when they were little swaying from the branches. The flowers that spewed ash on the bushes furled shut and rotted off. In their place new flowers, every color of the rainbow, each petal a unique shape, bloomed in place. The blades of grass softened, turned into saltwater taffy and spun sugar. The pools of blood turned into massive ball pits, the clouds from raining acid to raining soda, and the source of light that could be considered a ‘sun’ suddenly gained a large smiley face on it. Quicksand became quickglitter, bright blue and pink pools in the ground. The wind became warmer, gentler, and a lot more sparkly.

On the surface, it looked like this dimension had become neutered, safe, _harmless_. But. But-

The stuffed animal trees went from singing to screaming harpies, sucking in smaller eldritch beings in their gaping maws. He would never look at ball pits the same, not when he saw creatures burst to the surface obviously gasping for breath before being dragged under again by the weight of thousands upon thousands of plastic balls.  The flowers on the bushes sprouted tongues that lashed out and took in creatures five times their size into their maws. The grass grew taller and taller, tall enough to swallow the beings that walked in it up in a sugary whole. The sun shot down beams hot enough to evaporate anyone they hit, smiling and singing all the while. Pockets of quickglitter sucked in the unwary and whirlwinds of sparkles stripped flesh from bone. Vines made out of multicolored cashew yarn burst from the ground and wound their way around unsuspecting creatures, dragging cocooned mummies screaming into the ground.

The clouds still only rained soda, nothing else. But it was _Pepsi._

Mabel turned to look up at him, and they smiled, baring their teeth. For the barest second, Henry was scared to the bone, he was trapped with a predator, with a creature more deadly than any he ever known-no. No no no this was _Mabel_ , this was his wife, his love, the mother of this children, _Mabel_.

Aloud, he asked, “Do you know where they’re keeping him?”

Mabel pulled out her nail studded bat and with a flourish pointed it at the tallest mountain within eyeshot. It was crowned with screaming trees, surrounded at its base by a whirling firestorm, and he could see an army of monsters prowling over every square inch of it. A dark and foreboding castle straight out of a million horror films loomed over it all. Then the tip of her bat drifted downwards to a very mundane looking hill, a single tree singing and swaying in the sunshine.

“There.”

\-----

Stan knew his kids, knew that they weren’t stupid.

Knew that they would see through this blatantly transparent effort to keep them too busy to worry.

But blatant or not, it was working. Or rather, the triplets were willing to let themselves be distracted. He had them repaint first their bathroom, then his own, weathering their cries of disgust and horror as they slapped whitewash (no fancy colored paint that cost extra here thank you very much) on the walls. Dinner was breakfast leftovers, the four of them too busy cataloging every book in the Library to cook or order out. They were halfway through organizing Stan’s Rolodexes of…. friends (or as Dipper said once, every reprobate and lowlife in a tri-state area) when he noticed that Hank’s eyes were beginning to droop and Acacia was growing quieter and quieter. He sent them off to bed, and they went without a complaint, obeying him like they were six instead of sixteen.

He watched them as they slept. Stan’s heart had frozen for a second when he had gone into Acacia’s room and saw an empty blanket until he realized what they must have done. And as he expected, he found them in Willow’s room, the three of them curled up together like puppies, gangly limbs still growing tangled in each other.

They’d be fine, Stan knew that. But.

But they were fine because they had Mabel and Dipper and Henry here to protect them. They were fine because his nephew had been turned into a demon, turned into something twisted and terrible, but he handled it so goddamn well… Christ he was so fucking proud of the man Dipper had become. They were fine because under Henry’s skin (and since when did he think all artsy fartsy? Damn kids must be rubbing off on him) there was a beast that sought only to protect and shelter.

They were fine because Mabel wasn’t just Mabel. He knew it from the day he saw her blowing weird colored bubbles after they moved in.

Knew it like an old friend because the other half of Mabel that she fibbed and lied and said wasn’t that big a deal (don’t bullshit a bullshitter kid) reminded him of the little voice that popped in his head when he was tied up in the trunk of a car that had been abandoned in the desert. The little voice that asked Stan if he was really ready to die.

The little voice that had urged him to _live_.

Hank let out a blort, which seemed to prompt answering snores from his sisters in turn.

They were fine because they had monsters and demons and gods looking after them. And maybe his older kids (Stan didn’t care if Mabel and Dipper and Henry were in their forties, they’d always be his kids) weren’t here right now but…

His hand slipped into his pocket, the knuckles leaping onto his fingers as if by magic.

Maybe Stan wasn’t anyone’s first or second or even eighth choice of guardian. Maybe he was old and only getting older and was having a hard time getting out of bed some days. Maybe he wasn’t good like Henry or nice like Mabel or smart like Dipper.

But he would be goddamned if anyone hurt the triplets under his watch.

Gun in the waistband of his boxers and knife strapped to his leg, Stan settled in for a long, sleepless night.

\--------

Defeated.

Utterly and completely defeated.

(what now smart guy?)

He didn’t care anymore that he was prostrate on the ground, unable to move-

(lies, he wanted to break free, wanted to prowl and pace, rip and snarl, scream and tear)

He didn’t care anymore about what Axariah wanted with him-

(lies, his death at the elder god’s hands would spell the doom of everyone he ever loved and that was _u̧͕̗̲̦̼̪̞n̠͔̜͙̠̩̖a̯̱̥̜̘͞c̞̝̪c͔̭̭͕͉̰͠e͚͇̗͎̝͎̰p̪͚̻͎̘ͅt̮̟̞̫̖͘a̱ḅ̮̠͠l̗͚̗̼e̻̳̝_ )

He didn’t care anymore-

No.

Dipper _did_ care.

It was just better to pretend not to care than to face the hard truth.

A flash, a memory of lying in the grass in the front yard at Mom and Dad's house with Mabel. Lying in the grass and two weeks later they were on a bus to Oregon leaving California for good but that was neither here nor there (lies.)

What few stars could be seen through the light pollution sparkled in the sky. Mabel's hair fanned around her head like a halo, a dandelion absently in one hand, the other still clutched around a broken and bloody bat… and they were going to have to do something about that, she was going through the damn things way too fast.

Mabel’s voice broke the contemplative silence. "Whatcha thinking about Nerdper? Nerd things, like being a nerd?" She paused. “Heh. Nerdy nerd nerdington the fifth nerrrrrrrrrd.”

Dipper said nothing, and Mabel rolled over, propping herself up on her arms to glare at him.

"Dipper? Are you sulking? I thought you _promised_ me no angsting! It’s not your fault there were more of those weird dead body worshippers than you thought." She thought for a second. "And besides, we are here now, good as new! You can't even tell you got ka-knifed!"

Dipper winced, his back aching where the butcher knife had gone in earlier. This was only a shell, a fake meatsack (stop it that’s a Bill thought) but still, the ache was there, as if the knife had touched upon his true being. "Mabel, saying 'ka-knifed' doesn't make it any less awful."

She shrugged and rolled onto her back again. "Suit yourself, Angsty McAngsterton.”

They lay there in silence for another few minutes. Eventually they would have to go inside and face the music, there being no good way that they had found to explain away such exploits such as “cult-bashing” or “wendigo-hunting” or “a permanent life ban from WalMart” in Mabel’s case.  Finally, Mabel spoke again.

"I miss the eyes," she said. "They were a good look on you,” and did she sound older? Did she sound like there was someone something else in there and _no._ No, this was just Mabel, just his sister his twin they were both fifteen and she was as normal as she could be (lies).

Flash earlier to a cry for help and a hand that had grasped his and twisted reality around them (Mabel's hand, his sister's hand did that) and

"Can you turn me back?"

Mabel lifted her head up, dandelion now fully in her mouth. He regretted mentioning to her when they were in history once that you could make wine and salad out of dandelions because she had gotten into the habit of munching on them like a rabbit. "Hmmm?"

Dipper waved a hand over the whole of his body- the fangs that had just finished coming in, the bat wings that were still taking their sweet, painful time to grow, the stupid suit that felt far too good and comortable to wear. "Can you make me normal again?"

Her face crumpled, anguish filling her features. He hadn’t seen that look on her face since… since _that_ day. "Dipper, I.... I can't." Quieter, under her breath where even he barely could hear, she muttered, "I _shouldn't."_

"Mabel, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't cry, it's fine, I just...I just thought-"

She rolled on the grass until she rolled over to him, and grabbed him up in a big bear hug. He felt her tears fall hot on his neck, leaking into his shirt. "I'm sorry Dipper, I'm sorry, if I could I would..." Her words fell into silent sobbing, and Dipper stoked her hair, waiting for Mabel to cry herself out. He hated himself for asking and making her cry.

He hated himself more because even though he knew this would happen he had to ask anyway.

She stopped crying suddenly with a big shuddery breath, and Dipper gave her a squeeze of his own. Time to get Mabel inside and in bed; it had been a long day. But before he had a chance to speak, Mabel said, "Even if I would, you wouldn't want to be normal again. Not really."

He felt chilled to the bone as Mabel (no the _thing_ in Mabel his sister wasn't here right now) shrugged out of his grasp and stood up. She walked inside, leaving a trail of dandelions blooming in her path and a frozen Dipper sitting in shock on the soft grass.

He had never asked again, even after he came to terms with what-no _who_ \- Mabel was.

But now, captured and trapped like a fly in amber, trapped with only his thoughts for company, Dipper could no longer deny the truth of Mabel’s words.

Dipper _loved_ being a demon.

Not all of him, no. He hated what had become second nature to him. Hated the blood on his hands and in his mouth, hated how part of him crowed with glee every time he fucked someone over. He hated the part of him that was mean and petty, hated that he _knew_ that he was being that way and did it regardless. Hated how Stan and his sister, Henry and the kids were all getting older and older before his eyes, hated knowing that he’d see them placed in the ground.

Hated knowing that this was only the beginning, that 43 was _nothing_ , that one day that span of time would barely be the bat of an eyelash to him.

But.

But Dipper knew _everything_ now. Well, okay, not _quite_ everything, and a lot of it was mercifully kept in storage, as he liked to think of it, but still. All the answers he craved for when he was young, any mystery he wanted to solve, any code he wanted to crack he could now and it felt so fucking good.

But he was alive but also Dipper died when he was twelve and there was a tiny seed in him that was forever frozen at that age, frozen in the time when every day at school was a round of teasing and mocking, frozen in a time that he had been small and helpless and defenseless and _ẃ͇̬̲e͔̩̱̺̬̣͘a̫͖̟͚ͅk̗._ No one would ever mistake him for any of those things ever again, not when he could make his noodle arms as strong as he wanted and the smell of fear filled the air every time he appeared. Power burned through him and he could rearrange reality with the snap of his fingers. He _was_ magic, was the embodiment of everything he ever wanted. Anything he wanted could be his, and no one could deny him ever again.

He was a murderer, had tasted of human flesh and soul, had ripped the Earth asunder and feasted on the fear and pain that the swirling oceans had provided, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

And if Mabel had taken that from him, Dipper knew that the shell that would be left would not last long.

(if you aren’t the good guy, then what are you?)

His eyes remained as glazed over and frozen as the rest of his body, but hot tears trickled down his throat.

Some person he turned out to be.


	5. Chapter 5

He didn’t have long to live. Soon the planets would align. Soon he would be devoured and digested.

The end was nigh. There was nothing he could do. So he might as well spend in in penance and self reflection-

(“you mean,” Mabel’s voice rang out in his head, “feeling sorry for yourself and pouting.”)

- _penance and self reflection thank you very much Mabel._

Ahem.

Anyway. If this was it, if this was really it, the end of him and not only him but of all things, the least he could do was tally up what he had done, good and bad, demon and mortal, up and do-

Dipper sneezed.

It was the first independent movement he had been able to make since he had gotten here. Quickly he tried to twitch his wings, break free from his bonds, breathe fire, _anything_ -

Nothing, god damnit.

But still, he had sneezed and-

Another adorable tiny kitten sneeze ripped out of him, as he sensed two familiar presences coming his way.

Oh.

Oh no.

What had they _done?_

\--

They had gotten all of forty paces towards the small hill before they were surrounded.

Some of the creatures were slavering, mindless beasts. Like tigers or bears, they were neither good nor evil. They were simply animals, simply looking for their next meal. That being said, since their next meal was Mabel and Henry, they were going to have to do something about that.

No, worse were the beings with reason, with knowledge in their eyes or the things that were most likely their eyes. Beings that held guns and clubs and blades, beings that gnashed their fangs and bared their limbs. Those who had come to this dimension not by accident or pulled in by Axariah’s pull like the other creatures here, but by choice, seeking the opportunity to kill and feed on the great old god’s leftovers.

Mabel grinned, wolf fierce, and snapped her fingers. Her bat appeared in the air over her hands and dropped neatly into them. Henry unclipped his axe from the leather holster Mabel had made for him two Christmases ago.

“Are you ready to lock and load?” she asked him.

“Uh, sure?”

Mabel opened her mouth to say something else, but what he had no idea because as one the crowd charged them. He had only enough time to twirl and put his back to here before the melee began.

Hack and bat, slash and kick, punch and jab.

Time and space blurred, narrowed, focused in on this one tiny spot. A tongue wrapped around Mabel’s throat, and Henry chopped it off from the mouth it came from. A blast of energy headed for his torso was batted away by his wife, the blast instead flying into the shooter’s face. Mabel had been boxing since she was young, and for every blow with her bat she dealt out, there would be another delivered with her fist or her foot. Henry… hadn’t had the education Mabel had, but his arms were twice as long and he had long practice with waving around a stick with a blade attached so he managed.

Hack and bat, slash and kick, punch and jab.

They kept coming, as if Henry and Mabel’s presence was releasing a clarion call that could be heard and felt throughout this dimension. Though considering both who Mabel was and that their intentions were probably crystal clear to Dipper’s captor, it really wasn’t surprising.

Hack and bat, slash and kick, punch and jab.

Despite the extra bit of strength he had gained a few years ago, Henry was beginning to slow. Without becoming the Woodsman, the extra edge that he had would only last so long, especially in the face of wave after wave of enemies. And Mabel needed his face, needed one certain thing to hold on to. For her he would hold on, for her he would do anything.

That was good and all but the fact remained that it was now taking three or four hacks to cut through attackers, and Mabel’s hair was now singed to her shoulders from where he was too slow to push her out of the way of a gout of flame.

Hack and bat, slash and kick, punch and jab.

His legs and arms were beginning to shake-

Hack and bat, slash and kick

Mabel screamed, a furious call of defiance, and even as he moved to guard her back he noticed that the edges of his vision were going dark-

Hack and bat

Mabel had put his soul in the Earth and outside of feeling like his foot had fallen asleep but all over his body, Henry hadn’t noticed anything different (which in and of itself was… worrying) and nothing had happened. But now.

Hack

The feeling began in his gut, some unknown thing shifting, It stretched long fingers tendrils branches upwards, wrapping around his lungs and curling around his heart. There was a feeling of pulling, like the plug had been pulled in a bathtub, and he was the drain the water was being drawn towards.

Water.

He hadn’t taken a drink, not even from the water bottle in his rucksack, yet it felt like he had taken a draught from the well that was behind Mother Corduroy’s house, the well that had had the best tasting water he had ever drank. The tiredness, the wounds, the hurt- it all washed away from him, pulled away and dispersed in some grand pool outside of himself. He swung his axe and it cut his foe clean in half.

Henry started, staring for a second at his axe and his hands.

He shouldn’t have been able to do that. Not without becoming the Woodsman.

What had Mabel done to him?

A… well he wasn’t sure what it was other than ten feet tall, covered in bloody matted fur, and bearing three roaring heads, made its way towards Mabel. Another feeling of cool water throughout his body and he stepped in front of her, to protect her.

What she had to do, he supposed.

And if he was feeling a little more light headed, a little more detached from the situation, then surely it was due to the heat of battle and the rush of adrenaline. Besides, here and now his concerns and worries weren’t important.

Waves of enemies came, Mabel and Henry cut them down, the whole thing repeated again and again and again. Occasionally they made a few feet progress towards where Dipper was being held but for the most part they were stuck in a holding pattern. And despite everything, despite what Mabel had done to him, despite the years of battle experience Mabel had under her belt, they were still human (mostly.) Humans that were in their mid-forties and only getting older day by day.  Despite everything, Henry wasn’t sure how much longer they could last.

Especially as.. oh fuck was that a dragon? That sure did look like a dragon, or the cracked out on steroids ten story tall cousin of a dragon, coming towards them. Even the waves of monsters and interdimensional criminals and nightmares paused and stopped to look as the dragon approached, as impressed and terrified as Henry and Mabel were.

He felt a small calloused hand slip into his and he looked down at his wife. She was covered in many different colors of blood, cuts, bruises, and there were several fingers sticking out of her hair. She was breathing heavily and he felt her hand shake slightly as he held it.

“There’s no way we can take that thing on,” Mabel said quietly.

Henry nodded.

“I... I have to let her out. We have to become me.”

Henry inhaled, let it out in a breath that was far too shaky. “I know.”

He squeezed her hand. “I got you Mabel. Do your thing.”

Mabel nodded.

Nothing happened outwardly at first. The dragon came closer, Mabel’s hand was still in his, still had five fingers and thick calluses. The dragon came closer and Henry chanced a look over at his wife to see that her eyes had gone unfocused and her breaths were shallow and light.

The dragon came closer and paused, cocking its head as if something was wrong. Then the great dragon shrugged and carried on.

The dragon came closer and then erupted into mushrooms.

(Her hand had six had eight had five fingers)

Bright bursts of pink and yellow and green and white bloomed over the dragon. They started at first on the dragon’s legs and arms, and the dragon beat at them futilely; for every two the dragon clawed off five more burst into being. Moss and more mushrooms began to bloom across the dragon’s great wings, rapidly weighing them down. The dragon roared as fungus erupted from its eyes, eating them up before spreading rapidly down its face. The massive lizard fell to the ground in a convulsing fit as mushrooms and moss rapidly ate away at its skin its muscle, eating it from the inside and out at the same time. The crowd watched silently as the dragon slowly, painfully died, as the moss destroyed the skin, exposing the muscle briefly to the air before it too was eaten.

(Her hand was covered in scales in feathers in fur in skin regular _human_ skin again)

The skeleton quickly crumbled under the weight of the mushrooms and moss. The crowd around Henry and Mabel only had a second to register what had happened before they too erupted into chaos.  

Her hand in his squeezed harder and a five legged person next to them began to melt, skin sliding into muscle into bone into a puddle of slurry that splashed to the ground. A soft sigh and several beings around them burst into flowers, quickly becoming covered into blossoms before falling to the ground and becoming one with the soil. In the mob Henry could see creatures shuddering and then dissolving into water, splashing down and soaking into the ground. A great tentacled being froze and then exploded into glittery dusty.  One woman began to melt into the other four people around her, screaming as they dissolved into a fleshy mass that then transformed into a rock, their faces immortalized in stone. A walking eel with a flail in his tail began to swell like a balloon, before shooting up into the sky and exploding into blue and pink fireworks that spelled out their anniversary date. His wife took a shuddering breath and ten living people around them took their last breath in turn, simply falling to the ground and just… stopping.

With ivy and stone, flesh and air, sequins and yarn, Mabel… no, Chaos, reached out and stopped the army around them in its tracks, ending their lives or transmuting them into something that could do them no harm. Henry couldn’t help but think, as Mabel breathed in, breathed out, and poison gas erupted from her pores, that for the people that lived here, he and Mabel were the end of the world.

The end of all things.

(her hand was her hand was Something else entirely that he did not could not understand)

One by one, in clumps and groups and alone, their enemies fell.

One by one they fell at Henry and Mabel’s feet (at Mabel’s feet) until they were the only ones left standing.

“Mabel, you got them all, we’re good honey.”

The grass around them burst into flowers began to burst into flowers with screaming hungry mouths began to burst into flowers that screamed themselves hoarse screamed themselves aflame screamed themselves and began to eat each other-

Henry felt sick to his stomach. He squeezed Mabel’s hand harder.

“Mabel, Mabel honey, you’re good, you’re done, we’re fine, we can get Dipper now-“

Her hand in his shifted changed felt wrong wrong _wrong_ felt right again and around them the ground began to bleed blue red yellow oil paint, fluid gushing from the grass from the flowers from the shrubs, all of it pooling around their ankles and a quick look- oh.. oh _god_ the same liquid (blood) was pouring from her ears her eyes her mouth-

“Mabel!”

The Pepsi rain was evaporating as it hit the ground his skin felt dry, the ponds and lakes around them were evaporating in multi colored clouds, the stuffed animal trees were bursting aflame, the animals on them screaming in pain-

“ _Mabel, please!”_

She was lost, and if she was lost he was lost. But it was his job to bring her back to herself.

(his job his duty his joy his meaning)

He tried shaking her first, but they simply froze themselves into a block of day glo pink granite, returning to relative normal as soon as he took his hands off of them. He tried shouting for all of thirty seconds before thinking about it and deciding that raising the volume of his voice wasn’t going to do anything.

Henry looked at his hand, shaking now not only from fear but the thought of what he was about to do.

He took a steadying breath.

Then he slapped his wife.

Henry looked at his hand, shaking now not only from fear but the thought of wh-

Wait.

He had just had this thought.

And his hand was firmly at his side and not in front of him.

He tried again to slap Mabel.

Henry looked at his hand, shaking now not only from fear but _fuck._

So much for that idea (thank goodness.)

Across the sky, bright white cracks began to appear, completely unreal and almost cartoonish and the same cracks began to appear on Mabel, like an egg hatching and he needed to stop this _now_ -

For lack of any better idea, Henry leaned down and kissed Mabel.

That, as it turned out, was a complete mistake.

His lips fused to hers, his mouth, his nose, his face, and he wasn’t sure how he was breathing, they were breathing, but instead of freaking out like he should his hands and arms went of their own volition to pick Mabel up, to put them on a level.

(the better and easier to eat him up-)

They began to run together like wax. As his hands melted to her sides, he felt the fabric of their clothing get in the way, felt the fibers of cloth disintegrate under the force of their flesh and float free in the pool of their skin before being eaten away. His hands, or what remained of them, sunk into her sides, sunk into her skin muscle ribs organs-

Frantically his mind tried to focus on something, anything else other than _this_ only to notice that the legs that Mabel had wrapped around him were doing the same things as his hands and oh Christ he could _feel_ the way each individual toe was melting into his flesh, each bone dissolving and becoming part of him.

Was he shrinking- no. Were _they_ shrinking?

They were.

Even as his eye sight went dark and their eyes boiled together, even as he felt their skulls touch and grind together before melting into each other as well, he was still alarmed at the melting.

It was weird.

Weird probably wasn’t the best word but honestly he passed “horrified” when he felt their hair curl into each other and then denature into their flesh puddle, and “disgusted” when the fibers of their muscles (their? When had he started to think of himself as a ‘they’?) unwound and fell into liquid.

The last of their bodies finished melting and together they laid on the ground, no longer recognizable as human, no longer two separate forms no longer alone.

His mind (how did he still have a mind? How was he still alive?) exploded into a riot of color as he became aware of Mabel’s mind and a great beating Presence

 ** _OURS_**.

(a swirl of familiar pink and “henry henry henry!”)

(a deep wave of someone grand and unknowable and a cute earbleeding giggle of “hello!”)

They enveloped him, wrapped him up in their embraced, drowned him in joy and love and want and need, aching never ending need

(ours ours ours you are _ours_ and you are finally here and we are so happy and we are we are one you are a part of our we now)

Two became three became one and they exploded upwards, reforming into their new union. Arms and legs were constantly growing, falling off, exploding from random places, growing shorter or longer. They remembered tentacles and fur, teeth and more teeth and even more more teeth but decided on human.

Ish.

It was hard to remember things right now.

They were one but they were also MabelChaosHenry. The Henry part felt his mind expanding, the tug of the other two on his soul, and the way his soul soared further and further outwards from the Shack, from Gravity Falls in the soil.

(see what you can do see what we can do)

(let’s grow)

A small part of Henry said to stop. The other, newer parts of him said instead “Let’s see what happens.” And to be honest… it was intoxicating. To be one with his wife, to be one with the other person his wife was. To stop trying hold on to control, to stop watching himself so relentlessly.

To let go.

They knelt down, frowned at the ends of their arms until they remembered how to be hands again, and then laid them on the ground. Their flesh was temporary, their flesh could be whatever they wanted it to be, their flesh was dissolving once again into liquid, seeping into the ground and along with it their will. This world was blemished was tarnished was **_wrong_ ** but it was okay.

They could fix this.

Their Henry was linked back to Earth, his soul anchored there. An anchor that could also become a gateway.

It was no effort at all to let saltwater taffy grass become fallow and to raise green _real_ grass in its stead. No effort at all to bring about bushes and bushes of raspberries and blackberries, to let fat ripe tomato vines burst from the ground. No effort at all to pull harder and have sprouts become stems become twigs become trees.

No effort at all to have the trees keep coming, no effort to feed any stray being that got in the way to the trees.

No effort to open the rift between this place and the earth a little wider it would be _fine_ the Earth could have a buddy, they could call this place Earth Two…. The Sequel! (that was probably Mabel part thinking right there)

No noticing the way reality began to bend and creak slightly under their combined will.

No effort to

(stop)

They froze. That wasn’t them, wasn’t MabelHenryChaos. They shrugged, and poured more of themselves into the soil, into creating something new and wonderful and grand and terrible and

( _stop_ )

They laughed, loud and melodious. Nothing could stop them, nothing could make them relinquish each other from their (chaos) grasp. Nothing and no one could order them around, and nothing and no one would keep them from doing what they wanted

( ** _STOP_** )

Bark burst out across their skin. That wasn’t their idea though it _was_ neat.

Antlers erupted from out of their head, bursting from their skull through the flesh.

That was _definitely_ not their idea.

A fire blazed suddenly in their Henry part and they remembered, too late, that Henry was not alone was never alone, contained a seed a spark within him.

A seed that was content to sleep. Most of the time.

A seed that was born out of the need to protect their family, a seed that sought to protect too the one that nurtured it.

The Woodsman roared, and suddenly they were no longer one, were no longer they but were two-in-one and one, Mabel and Henry again.

Henry looked down at his hands, down further to the rest of his body.

Normal again.

He reached up, felt the air around his head, and hit antler.

Relatively normal again.

Mabel was still on the ground, curled up in a tiny ball, and he quickly dropped down to her, gathering her up in his arms. She was shivering and shaking so badly that for a brief second he was worried that she was having a seizure.

“Mabel, Mabel honey are you okay?”

She burrowed her head into his sweater, and said nothing.

“Mabel?”

“I’m sorry. We’re sorry.”

“It’s okay-“

(It wasn’t okay but he could wait to be not okay until they got Dipper and got home)

“No, no it’s not okay.” His wife took a deep, shuddering breath.

“I’m losing control. We don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”

\----

His sister had come to rescue him.

Dipper winced, his senses screaming in pain as a crack in reality opened in this dimension. It was like a million nails running down a chalkboard, hair being rubbed the wrong way, a thousand needle pricks in between fingers and toes.

Mabel was here to rescue him. And Dipper wasn’t sure the universe would survive it.


End file.
